Grey Wolves

It was a natural and endless barrage of blistering thoughts that nuanced at the natural order of the throes that followed; the heat rampaged at my cool exterior and infiltrated the throne room where wolves snarled with gleaming eyes in the dark, and then finally laid down in acquiescence; my hands quivered in the throbbing quiet of the calm; lips endured the sinking bite of jagged teeth; the heart palpitated frenzied and furious…

 

Out the window, I beheld a couple staring at each other under a blistering sun. Screams ensued and sulking followed. Sweaty countenances coincided splendidly. Their grubby garb left good hygiene and a paying job to be desired. And yet, in that tumultuous wrangle, I found myself covetous of their trivial tiff. With what ailments they contended, and passions no longer pretended, they crawled like creatures creating a world of chaos–unaffected by the man behind the shielding pane. I felt absurd as my designer watch reflected the sun in my eyes, reminding me of the blinding spell of the things we own and how they end up owning us.

After a few minutes, the swallowing madness–what I call my anxiety ( which if I don’t put in check, ends up becoming a terrible and crippling panic attack) waned before it waxed. Exhaling like a Hindu cow and inhaling like a slumbering sloth, I sagged in my seat and feigned composure. Standing up and honing in on the menu on the wall, I convinced myself that some new tea shit infusion was in vogue, hence must be good. Oh, the power of Capitalism, I thought as I snapped my neck to the right trying to crack it with no avail.

 

After a few pensive moments, I took another seat in a different part of the coffee shop, to avoid the scene outside no doubt, and pulled out my writing apparatus.

With a few sips of the trendy tea, I began to feel myself again…I felt planted on the ground and told myself that adulthood must be comfortable and free of danger–free of strife. That I didn’t sell out, I simply cashed in.

 

And right before a smile crept upon my face, a Sheriff came in and sat next to.

“How ya doin, guy?” He asked taking out his lap top with a smile. He gave me a goofy, glazed-eyed wink and sipped on his drink.

 

I felt my jaws tightening up and the grey wolf in me, with the rest of the pack, which I call my dispositions, stood up and closed in.

∞